Motherhood
by Merrybeans
Summary: Raoul has gone to visit his Bazhir tribe, the Sandrunners. While he is away, Buri finds her interests take a new direction and when her husband returns, he brings her a surprise she’ll never forget.


_A/N: The idea for this originated during a conversation with some friends. It's supposed to be a fun little ficlet, if not entirely accurate._

_Dedication: For Tris's birthday. Happy Birthday, my dear friend!_

_Disclaimer: Not mine; belongs to Tamora Pierce._

---

**Motherhood.**

Buri was feeling decidedly lonely, which was not a feeling she was accustomed too. Goldenlake was a big manor and though it paled in comparison to the Royal Palace, the latter was always busy and filled with people and noise. Goldenlake was too quiet.

She could well imagine it had been built for a large family; a cheerful knight with many sons and daughters to raise. But she was too old to bear children now and after Raoul's Great-Aunt Sebila had died last year, the halls of the Manor had fallen hauntingly silent. The old matriarch had run the Manor with a stern hand but a sociable eye; the place was always hectic, the maids always active, and the guest rooms always in use. She had been a lady of formidable contacts and had thrown all her energy into hosting various entertainments after her husband had died.

But Buri was no entertainer and no social butterfly. The maids went about their normal chores but gone was their vitality; without the numerous, never-ending guests to provide for, life had become rather plain for them. The guestrooms grew cold and gathered cobwebs.

When Raoul had retired too, he had shut up the large, grand halls. Two people did not need such extravagance, he had said; and the long tables and high-backed chairs and polished benches had been covered with greying dust sheets. The fires in the ornate grates had been extinguished and the windows bordered. The lord and lady of the house had retreated to their personal rooms for dining and living.

_  
__Perhaps_, Buri thought, _I should invite my friends to stay for a while._

She tried to imagine who that group would include and how they would be entertained. Thayet, Alanna, Onua, Sarge, George, Kuri, Daine and her Numair, Kel- perhaps even that foolish Evin and his shadow, Miri. Buri snorted. What a handful. She couldn't see any of _them_ sitting around daintily sipping tea and walking the gardens as Lady Sebila's guests would have done; well, with the exception of Thayet, but Buri knew she'd rather be racing horses or competing with her bow.

The K'mir warrior left her seat and walked to the window, staring out at the grounds of her new home. From here, she could see wide expanses of green lawns; the lake was at the front of the house. Closer to the Manor were the beautiful flower gardens that Raoul's mother had loved so much. They had never discussed it, but Buri knew her husband paid a hefty sum to have a mage-gardener at Goldenlake to keep the flowers growing as his mother had wanted them.

Though the summer was beginning to fade now, the flowers still struggled to hold their late blooms. Even from this height, they were a riot of colours and Buri knew if she walked those paths she would be inundated with scents. But she was not a great appreciator of dainty petals, and left the late Lady Goldenlake's gardens to her memory.

Still, Buri could remember clearly her visit to Goldenlake last summer. The gardens had been colourful, yes, but that was what Buri expected of gardens. What had touched the hardened warrior were the flowers _inside_ the Manor.

Lady Sebila had gathered armfuls of the best blooms and arranged them in cheerful bouquets throughout all the major halls and corridors. There was even a small bunch of long-stemmed daisies in Buri's bedroom. The flowers had offered a pinch of sunlight against the grey stone walls of the Manor; they had reminded Buri of the stained glass in the elaborate temples in Corus and Port Caynn.

It was little things like that, she realised as she looked around the bare room, which would turn this cold Manor into a better home.

With a sudden determinedness, Buri set to. It took her a while, but she located a pair of gardening shears and found her way into the late Lady Goldenlake's gardens.

Creeping down the path, she almost felt like she was violating some sacred ground. It was almost like the garden- kept as a perfect memory- had become a kind of open-topped temple where the family could come and be with their missing loved ones.

She pushed on, ignoring how the flowers danced as if they were jeering her: _what are you doing here? You are not welcome._ Choosing a bright red poppy, she cut the stem.

Buri wondered what Raoul would think of her cutting flowers from his gardens. He had let Great-Aunt Sebila; but perhaps he had just not wanted to confront the old "Dragon" about it. Well, she would find out soon enough when he returned: he would not worry about reprimanding _her_.

Raoul was currently away in the Great Southern Desert. He had not taken to retired life very well, whereas Buri had been ready for it. While at Goldenlake he had gone for long rides every day, no doubt, Buri thought, searching for any lonesome Immortals. As the summer began to cool and drop away, he had decided to make a trip to his _other_ family: his Bazhir tribe.

He had pestered Buri to go with him, but she had no desire to be on the move again. She did not, either, relish the thought of all that grit and sand; in her old age (as she fondly said to her husband) she had discovered a great love of soft beds and warm baths and a firm roof over her head.

She had to admit, she _had_ been a little disappointed when Raoul had gone without her (and a little worried that he was travelling entirely on his own), and she suddenly wondered if this was how George felt. Everybody knew that Alanna could not be at home for more than a few weeks before getting restless and travelling somewhere, and George had always stayed at home to look after the house and the kids.

They had no children and the house hardly needed looking after, but would _she_ always be left at home now? Her spirit had calmed; she had seen enough sites and far too much bloodshed: she was happy in one place now. Every sea smelt the same to her, every desert felt as hot as the last, every market and harbour had the same noise; she had had enough of seeing the different architecture and tasting the different foods.

But Raoul, quite clearly, had not. He had grown far too accustomed to the life of the Own and now Buri was paying the price.

---

Buri looked around her with pride. It had taken a few days, but she had finally gotten the Manor into better shape. _Now_ it looked more like a home!

Vases of flowers decorated shelves and cabinets and little knick-knacks collected from her wide journeying had been brought out of their boxes. All the rugs had been taken out of their rooms and intensely cleaned; the drapes had been removed from their windows and aired; the flagstone floors had been scrubbed clean and new rushes laid down. Dried herbs hung from the ceilings, adding subtle scents.

Buri was pleased with herself. She was even more pleased that she had got it finished before Raoul had come home. She hoped he would like it and appreciate the time she had spent doing something so utterly _feminine._

Raoul was due home any day now—well, he had been due home two days ago, but Buri wasn't too worried yet. She knew he could take care of himself and, besides that, who was to say how time had gotten away from him, or what had happened in the desert? It had been a long time since he had seen his tribe.

A maid went rushing by and Buri grabbed the girl's arm. 'Hey now, why are you running?'

The girl tried to regain her breath before saying, 'Horses, ma'am.'

Buri let her go, knowing she would have work to do before whoever was riding the horses reached the house. Frowning, the K'miri left the room; she hadn't heard horses, but she _was_ at the back of the Manor.

Walking quickly, she reached the front door before the riders. No- _rider_; there was only one, coming up the long road leading to the Manor.

She smiled. No-one could mistake _that_ great hulk even from this distance.

Her joyful cry caught in her throat as she realised he was riding funny. He was protecting something with his arms, his head bowed. Her heart skipped a beat; how serious was his injury? Why had he travelled all this way alone when he was hurt?

She stumbled down the few steps, cursing him under her breath already. How could he let himself get wounded? _Really, Raoul, what a thing to do._

Yet when he pulled his horse up and saw her waiting, he beamed.

'Buri!'

She frowned at him. His voice held an odd sort of reverence; what was going on?

'Raoul, are you hurt?'

'No, my dear.' As he dismounted she realised- with an abrupt jolt to her heart- that he was _holding__something_ – not clutching his own gaping wound. Unheeded, a little cry escaped her lips as she stumbled forward. He looked at her in surprise. 'Buri?'

'How dare you, you oaf! Worrying me like that!' She came to him, reaching out to steady herself. From the corner of her eye, she was aware of the housekeeper approaching. Buri had risen in the woman's esteem over the last few days, but the housekeeper still felt she needed to welcome her master home properly.

'What have you got there?' Buri asked as she joined him.

Suddenly a little unsure, Raoul cradled the bundle to his chest. A few seconds later, he held it out for her to see.

Buri blinked. She felt like she should rub her eyes or pinch her arm or something.

'Raoul…'

'Yes, dear?'

'Is that a – baby?'

'Yes, dear.'

She tore her gaze away from what was quite obviously a baby to look at his eyes. They were as warm as ever, filled with hope and sincerity and wicked mirth. Scowling at him, she returned to the little thing. It seemed even tinier in his massive hands.

Then it hit her: Raoul had brought a _baby_, a _Bazhir baby_ home.

'Raoul!' she cried, making him jump and the baby cry. 'What, by all the Gods, are you doing with a _baby!_'

Anxiously he began, 'I couldn't _leave_ her there. You would have done the same, Buri.'

She glared at him before he could continue. 'Inside, now. I think you need to explain.'

Meekly, still clutching the child delicately, he made his way into the Manor. The waiting servants moved aside as one, gaping at the scene before them.

Buri watched him go, her fists on her hips, trying not to notice how he dragged his feet. She closed her eyes briefly. 'Horse Lords.'

Inside, they sat by a low fire, Raoul's boots and burnoose discarded but the babe still close to his chest. A large mug of hot chocolate sat beside him, but he was watching his wife desperately where she sat across from him.

Buri nursed her own warm mug, trying to process the sight of Raoul and a babe.

'It was horrible, Buri,' he started unexpectedly. 'They had all been massacred.'

'What?' she cried. 'The Sandrunners?'

He shook his head. 'No. The River-Lizards.' He named another tribe in the Great Southern Desert, one Buri knew little of.

'By who?'

He shook his head again. 'Not _who_, what. A disease. It wiped the tribe out, more or less, and they were a small tribe to begin with.'

'And the babe… Orphaned?'

Raoul nodded.

'That barely makes sense; surely a child young as that should have been one of the first to suffer with a disease.'

Her husband shrugged. 'Beats me. Must be a strong one.' He touched the tiny dark-skinned nose with the edge of a finger. 'The remainder of the tribe didn't want the babe.' He sighed. 'They said they could not provide for such a young child with so many of them dead and dying and so few left alive. The child would either die of the disease, or of neglect. All the women were gone.'

Raoul looked up to make sure Buri was listening. She was; her eyes were fixed avidly on him and the orphan in his arms.

He continued, 'I took the baby. When I reached the Sandrunners, I told them what had happened and they were reluctant to let the child into their camp, believing it would bring the disease with them.' He smiled. 'I told them that if the child had it, it would have died by now, and what was to say _I_ didn't have it?'

Buri rolled her eyes. 'I bet that set them in a state.'

'Too right,' he smiled. 'Of course, they decided I was too strong to die of an _illness_, me the giant-killer.'

She snorted. 'So they let you in.'

He nodded. 'But they wouldn't keep the babe.' Raoul looked at his wife, his dark eyes beseeching. 'What was I to do, Buri? Desert her? Leave a helpless baby to die in the hot sands?'

She frowned, and when she spoke her words were slow, as if she was carefully choosing each one. 'How have you cared for a child all these weeks?'

He blushed. 'Well, you can't be of the Own all these years and not pick up some things. Plus I've seen Jon raise kids, Alanna and George raise kids, Gary raise kids, and now Numair- I would have been a simpleton if I _hadn't_ picked up some vital things.' She still looked unconvinced. 'And the Sandrunner women helped out,' he admitted. '_They_ thought it was very amusing.'

Buri bit her lip, imaging her gentle giant of a husband cleaning a dirty nappy or quieting a screaming child.

'Don't you start laughing too! By the way-' shifting his precious cargo, he sought a pocket- 'I brought you a present too.'

She raised her eyebrows thinking- _as if a baby isn't enough!_ He offered her something small and she took it: a bracelet, not made of any fine gold or expensive gems, but dyed strips of leather, interwoven in a tight pattern. She smiled and could feel her eyes grow damp. Here he was, this man that had revolutionised the King's Own, mothering a newborn orphan and still remembering to bring her perfect gifts too.

He didn't even need to ask if she liked it.

'I like what you've done to the place,' he added quietly and when she glanced up, he was studying the flowers resting on the mantelpiece.

'Well then,' said Buri, standing up. 'I suppose I'd better get a nursery set up.'

He caught her hand and pressed it to his lips. 'Thank you.'

Leaning down, Buri kissed him fiercely. 'She's a beautiful daughter, Raoul.'

'She gets it from her Ma,' he teased, slapping her bottom.

Pulling a face, Buri made her way to the door. Raoul watched her go, liking the way her gown fit her. As she left the room he heard her say, 'Horse Lords, just wait until Thayet hears about this!'

He couldn't help it. Despite the sleeping child, he burst into laughter.

---


End file.
